


Adversity

by The_Hinky_Panda



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hinky_Panda/pseuds/The_Hinky_Panda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel has changed loyalties but will he survive at the hands of the Winchesters in order to help them defeat Metatron? (This was spawned from a prompt and then took on a life of it's own.) Sadreel pairing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adversity

Prompt One: Can I have Sam and Gadreel? Missing scene from Meta Fiction or really any sort of meeting works, I just want them to talk...  
   
Prompt Two: Gadreel and Sam friendship? :D  
   
Adversity

Proverbs 17:17 - A friend loves at all times and a brother is born for adversity. 

Dean is never going to forgive Gadreel for what he has done which means that it lies with Sam to extend that mercy. Sam can’t figure out just who exactly he should be angry with over this realization: Dean for his stubbornness, Gadreel for his misappropriated loyalty or himself for giving in to the situation.  
   
It really didn’t matter though. When Castiel tells them of Gadreel’s betrayal of Metatron and the need to stash the angel from the vengeful scribe, they really have no choice but to bring him back into the bunker. Gadreel may be naïve but he certainly isn’t stupid. He gathered so much information, soaked in like a dry sponge, until he had more knowledge than any of them concerning the ins and outs of Metatron’s faction. He emptied storehouses of weapons, brought crates of spell books and rubbings of the tablets. They now have the nuclear warheads in the battle for Heaven and even though Cas still doesn’t trust Gadreel fully, he tells the brothers it is the step in the right direction for the fallen guard.  
   
Sam is thankful for the upper hand but not convinced of Gadreel’s change in heart. Dean wants nothing more than to strike the angel down but Sam doesn’t know if it’s his brother’s sense of correcting mistakes or the desire to hold the first blade and wield it once more. So he puts himself between them on a daily basis. He stands between his oppressor and his brother who is being oppressed and he wonders when he’s become the stronger one.  
   
They’ve had Gadreel chained and warded for the last week. The more information that they pour through, the more Sam realizes the size of the war chest the angel has given them is vast. They will defeat Metatron. They will reopen Heaven. They just need to piece the puzzle together correctly in order to accomplish the goal. And as Sam lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he realizes a lot of time could be saved if they had some help.  
   
Getting up, he leaves his room and passes by Dean’s where he can hear his elder brother snoring. He has a window of time, three hours tops, to accomplish his task. He doesn’t take time to dress and pads on bare feet down to the storage room. He reminds himself of the location of all the sigils. He reminds himself of the chains and symbols that are carved into them that will keep him safe. He runs the liturgy of those things through his mind as he opens the hidden door and peers into the dark room.  
   
The scene before him shocks him into paralysis. He didn’t know what to expect but this certainly isn’t  it. Gadreel is in the back corner of the room, chains pulled tight from their origin point in the center of the room. His back is to the door, hunched and bowed over. His face is pressed into the wall like a child who had been told to stand in the corner. And Sam realizes, whether from his own deductions or from the time Gadreel had spent in his body, that this was how he had passed centuries of time.  
   
Sam clears his throats and tries to push past the knot in his chest. The angel’s head turns and the sparse light glints off of his unfocused eyes.  
   
“Thaddeus?”  
   
“No, it’s Sam.” Even from standing at the threshold of the dungeon, Sam can see the angel’s eyes snap into focus and clear.  
   
“Sam,” Gadreel repeats and there is a sense of relief in his tone. He unfurls himself from the corner but remains seated on the ground. The chains make an ungodly amount of noise in the quiet of the night and Sam wonders if it’ll be enough to rouse Dean. As he listens for any warning of his brother being awake and investigating, all Sam can hear is the labored, wheezing of the angel in front of him.  
   
“Are you…” Sam wonders why he even cares but he finishes the question any way. “Are you sick?”  
   
Gadreel closes his eyes and struggles for air. “No. Just weak.”  
   
“We’ve had you under the influence of the sigils before and you were more than chatty then.”  
   
“There weren’t…as many.”  
   
Sam remembers painting one sigil on the floor and two on the opposing walls but he turns the light on in the room, he can see hundreds have been added on all four walls. “Did Dean do this?”  
   
Gadreel’s eyes open through narrow slits as he looks at Sam and presses him mouth into a firm line. “Your brother is not himself.”  
   
Sam remembers Cas telling them that Gadreel is one of the stronger angels in the host, that guards were always the strongest and largest angels. He warned them if it ever came down to a battle of power, Gadreel would win even against Cas himself. But Sam was having a hard time reconciling that with the sprawled out angel who couldn’t focus and was barely able to draw breath.  
   
“Are you dying?”  
   
Gadreel tries to push himself up into a straighter position but can’t seem to manage it. Since he is unable to physical rally himself, he gives up trying to appear stronger than what he is. “If I remain under this many sigils for another week then, yes, I will die. If your brother adds more, I will die sooner.”  
   
Sam doesn’t say anything else. He leaves the dungeon and retrieves a couple cans of spray paint. When he steps back into the room, Gadreel is once more slumped over, his forehead resting on the wall. Sam alters as many sigils as he can reach without a ladder and the entire time there is no change in the angel. After a couple hours of work, Sam turns the light out and closes the door once more. Just before the latch catches, he hears a quiet “thank you” from the corner of the room but chooses to ignore it.  
   
***  
   
Dean is beyond furious the next day when he discovers the majority of the sigils have been changed. Sam is equally angry over his brother sneaking into the holding cell and continuously adding more sigils without telling him what he was doing.  
   
Sam begs him to get rid of the Mark.  
   
Dean retaliates the Mark has nothing to do with it.  
   
And they’re both standing on opposite sides of a canyon that is only growing deeper. Sam finds it difficult to sleep that night as well and before he can register his movements, he’s standing outside the dungeon again. He opens the door and flips on the light. Gadreel is more focused, his eyes zeroing in on Sam as soon the door opens. The angel is still seated on the floor but his back is straighter, his head lifted up and his manacled hands folded on his lap.  
   
“Hello, Sam.”  
   
He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what he wants from this angelic enigma so he turns out the light and shuts the door once more. He returns to his room and passes another night without any sleep.  
   
***  
   
The next day Dean doesn’t say anything to him as they pour through spell books and cross reference them with what the Men of the Letters have in their library. It’s an exhausting day, both the mental and emotionally strain and Sam is certain he will sleep that night and he does for a few hours. A noise wakes him but then he doesn’t hear it again so he falls back asleep.  
   
The next morning though, Sam notices the scrapes on Dean’s knuckles that are spattered with paint. He ignores his brother’s hands throughout the day but as soon as Dean closes the door to his room, Sam is making a bee line to the dungeon. There is no hesitation when he opens the door and hits the light.  
   
It’s much worse than he anticipated. The sigils have all been corrected and Gadreel is once more in the corner, unmoving. Sam notices what he thought was paint splatter on the wall is actually blood when he gets closer to it.  
   
“Gadreel?”  
   
The angel doesn’t even twitch a muscle and Sam believes him to be dead. He grabs the hood of the sweatshirt and pulls the angel into an upright position and frowns at the grisly, bloody mess of his face. This really has gone too far.  
   
“Really, Dean?”  
   
The angel suddenly breathes in deeply. His eyes move as if he’s trying to open them but they’re swollen shut. He licks his cracked lips. “Not…your…brother’s…fault.”  
   
Sam leaves the angel where he is and grabs a paint can only to find it’s empty. He searches through the storage room and can’t find any more paint to alter the sigils. But if he keeps Gadreel in that room, he wouldn’t be able to heal himself from the injuries. Despite Dean being the one that was actively trying to end the angel, Gadreel never seemed to blame him. If the angel knows the Mark of Cain is the reason for the violence, then he might know something about getting rid of it.  
   
Before he can talk himself out of the decision, Sam goes into the dungeon and unchains Gadreel. “Can you walk?”  
   
The angel tries to stand but he can’t lift himself up from his knees. Sam hooks an arm underneath the angel’s and hauls him to his feet. He leans heavily on Sam as they make their way through the bunker. There is a hallway of rooms that he and Dean have left untouched since no one has stayed with them other than Charlie and she chose a room on the same hallway as their rooms. Sam hopes that Dean won’t go exploring now.  
   
He opens the door to one of the middle bedrooms and drops the angel onto the still dust covered bed. Using a marker, he draws a sigil on the back of the door and two more on the walls just to be safe. He has brought a pair of handcuffs with him and snaps one around the angel’s wrist and the other around the metal head board of the bed. Sam leaves the room, grabs a bucket of soapy water and goes back to the dungeon. Dean finds him there the next morning, scrubbing down the walls and floor with a bucket of red tinted water.  
   
“What are you doing?”  
   
Sam grits his teeth. “I’m cleaning up your mess.”  
   
“Where is he?”  
   
Sam keeps his back turned and hopes he doesn’t choke on the lie. “You killed him, Dean. You killed him and Heaven is closed. Where do you think he is?”  
   
“At least he’s not our problem anymore.”  
   
“Would you listen to yourself?!” Sam finally turns to face his brother. “You kill an angel with your bare hands and you shrug it off?”  
   
Dean’s stance changes from relaxed to defensive. “He killed Kevin! And he used your body to do it.”  
   
“Because you-“ Sam snaps his mouth shut as Gadreel’s words come back to him. Not your brother’s fault. “Dean, you have to get rid of the Mark.”  
   
Dean rolls his eyes. “This had nothing to do with the Mark.”  
   
“This has everything to do with the Mark. Abbaddon is dead. You completed the whole purpose of even having the damn thing. It’s time to get rid of it.”  
   
Dean brushes him off and leaves as Sam’s finishes cleaning the room. When he finally emerges from the dungeon, Dean has left the bunker.  
   
***  
   
It’s been two days since Sam has seen Dean. In an act of desperation, Sam calls Cas. The angel hasn’t seen Dean but has caught wind of rumors that the hunter has teamed up with Crowley. He was actually hoping Sam had more information on the situation and expresses extreme concern that it is not the case. Sam spends an entire day tearing the bunker apart looking for the first blade but he can’t find it.  
   
When evening falls, Sam goes to the deserted hallway and opens the bedroom door. He’s out of choices, he’s out of options. Gadreel is alert and sitting on the edge of the bed. His face is encrusted in dried blood but his wounds are all healed. He looks at Sam with a mix of apprehension and pity and Sam wishes he can continue to hate him for everything he’s done. But he can’t because Dean is gone god knows where, Cas is trying to manage his faction and mobilize them against Metatron and Sam is alone.  
   
“I can’t find the first blade.” He almost says he can’t find Dean either but the understanding in the angel’s eyes stop him and allow the words to die in his throat. Instead, they settle like a dead weight in his stomach.  
   
“The Mark of Cain is not your battle. It is something that Dean himself needs to fight.”  
   
“Can he win?”  
   
“With help, yes.”  
   
“What kind of help?”  
   
“An intervention, of sorts. The details I do not know but one of the books that I took from Metatron should tell you.”  
   
“You don’t happen to know which one?”  
   
The angel shakes his head. “There were so many.”  
   
Sam acts before he can rationalize what he is doing. He takes the cuffs off Gadreel and stands back. They are still in the room and if the angel wishes to attack him, Sam would still have an advantage thanks to the sigils. But Gadreel remains seated, confused and stunned.  
   
“I do not understand.”  
   
The words choke him, thorny and bitter, but he spits them out anyway. He has to because he’s the stronger brother at the moment. “I need your help.”  
   
At that, Gadreel stands slowly. “Of course.”  
   
***  
   
For the first two days that Sam allows Gadreel to spend in the library, the angel cuffs remain on. It acts both as a way to keep the upper hand over the angel and as a way for Sam to know where he is at all times. However after day three, the clang of metal on the wooden table starts to wear on his already frayed nerves and with an angry snap, he uncuffs the angel completely. He drops them onto the table and goes back to chair two tables down and tries not to think about what he has just done.  
   
Gadreel is free now. There are no sigils in the library. Now, there are no cuffs binding him. He is free to move about the bunker as he wishes and there isn’t much Sam can do to stop him now. But Sam is tired, physically and emotionally and mentally. Cas calls multiple times a day to check on him. Dean has been unreachable for four days. Sam has barely eaten or slept since then. This moment, this precipice he is standing on makes him wish for the simpler days when it was just the Apocalypse they were facing. At least they all faced it together.  
   
“Thank you, Sam.”  
   
It is whispered but it travels through the empty, quiet room as if Gadreel had shouted it. Sam closes his eyes and laughs because the situation is so ridiculous and topsy-turvy that if he didn’t laugh, he would surely go insane. Perhaps, he is already there.  
   
***  
   
“Sam!”  
   
Sam jerks awake and fumbles to find his footing, only to slide on the wood floor and land on his ass. Someone grabs his arm and helps him to his feet. It takes a couple of blinks, but Castiel finally comes into focus. He is so happy to his friend, any friend, that he grabs a hold of Cas and doesn’t let go for a long time. Thankfully the angel understands and returns the hug for as long as Sam leans on him.  
   
Eventually Sam’s sleepy mind clears and he stands up, releasing Cas. “Hey.”  
   
Cas smiles half way. “Hey.”  
   
“Did you, uh, find out anything?”  
   
Cas’ forehead furrows. “I thought that was why you called me, that you found something.”  
   
“I didn’t call you.”  
   
“I did.” Gadreel appears at the end of the table and slides an open book towards them. “This is the spell that will reverse Metatron’s.” He starts to back away from the table but turns a few paces after. “I am willing to help with the last ingredient.”  
   
Sam and Cas both read over the spell ingredients but it’s only Cas who nods with understanding.  
   
“It’s basically the opposite of the ingredients that were used to cast the spell. Instead of a cupid’s bow, something that brings people together, we need to collect the complete staff of Moses, which was used for the purpose of division. We used a Nephilium’s heart for the first spell, now we need to find another one so we can use their blood. The last ingredient Metatron needed was my grace, which he took by force.”  
   
Sam reads the last ingredient. “The grace of an angel willingly given.”  
   
They glance up to where Gadreel had been standing only to find he has disappeared. Sam figures he has gone to one of the aisles of books that he frequents so Sam wouldn’t have look at him, be reminded of the situation they all find themselves at the moment.  
   
Cas looks grave. “I didn’t know he was helping you.”  
   
Sam nods. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have much of a choice.”  
   
“I could have sent you twenty decent angels who could have helped you. All you had to do was ask.”  
   
Sam realizes Cas is right, he could have sent over other angels who were more trust worthy. But Sam needs this, this is his closure. He had spent the last five days staring down the angel that had taken his free will away from him and he hadn’t killed him or retaliated against him in anyway. He can look his attacker in the eye and still keep hold of his power. It is a victory he would not have been able to gain if not for the circumstances.  
   
“I know, Cas, but it needs to work out this way.”  
   
***  
   
Cas leaves that evening to start collecting the ingredients of the spell. The Staff of Moses, he knew where that was. Since so many angels had fallen and taken vessels, some within already flourishing families, finding a new Nephilium is easier than the first time. It won’t be long before Cas will return to the bunker for the last ingredient: another angel’s grace, one that is willingly forfeited.  
   
Sam looks for Gadreel shortly after Cas leaves and finds him exactly where he expects to: sitting on the floor in one of the many aisles of books and journals in the library. His back is against the wall, which leaves Sam standing in his only exit. It’s a nuance that Sam has noticed since he took the cuffs off. Gadreel had always placed himself physically at a disadvantage to Sam. He was putting himself in a vulnerable position every interaction. For the first time, he could look at the angel and not feel his gut twist or his hands clench.  
   
Sam folds his legs underneath him and sits on the floor opposite of Gadreel. The angel closes the tome he’d been reading and waits for Sam to speak.  
   
“Why did you do it?” Sam takes a breath. “Why did you possess me the way you did?”  
   
Gadreel is quiet for so long that Sam is afraid he’ll never get his answer. Just when he’s ready to give up, Gadreel speaks.  
   
“I did allow Lucifer into the Garden. I thought I was helping restore him to his family. I wanted nothing more than to be the angel that was responsible to reuniting the prodigal son to his loving Father.  
   
“When I heard your brother’s prayer, I was right back at the Garden again. His desperation echoed mine. His desire to see you healed and reunited with you burned with an intensity that humans do not normally have. I knew that the method was not acceptable. I had only hoped the end result would have earned my forgiveness.”  
   
“You killed Kevin.”  
   
The angel bows his head. “Angels are created to take orders. I was ordered to do that and I believed in the person issuing the order. I was gravely mistaken once again. But you know what it is to make decisions believing it is for the best. You know the guilt that comes from the realization that you were misled and wrong. You know the regret and want to change those actions.”

“Is that why you’re going to give up your grace? You think that’s going fix everything?” 

“No, it will not fix anything. But it is something that I can choose to do. No one can order me to do this, no one can tell me to not to do it. I am finally giving myself orders.” 

Sam is able to see the similarities between them and it makes him uncomfortable but less lonely. He’s not sure how he is to feel about this new discovery so he stands and leaves the angel to his books. 

***

Cas has the staff and blood. He is on his way to the bunker to collect the grace. Sam tells Gadreel who now sits across from him at the library table. The angel accepts the information with a reserved nod. 

“What are you going do?” Sam asks him. “When you’re human?” 

Gadreel looks thoughtful. “I had not thought about it. I suppose I will have to find lodging of my own.” 

“And food.” 

The angel looks slightly worried at the suggestion. “I had not thought of that.” 

“When you’re human you’re going to have to eat, drink, sleep, work. All the fun stuff.” 

“That does not sound very fun.” 

A smile starts to form but then Sam remembers who this is seated across from him. It takes more force to squelch the smile than he cares to admit. He doesn’t know when it happened but tolerance had at some point given way to forgiveness. Perhaps it was when he explained his motivations a couple days ago. Perhaps it was in the countless hours of them pouring over books and assembling a list of things that will help get Dean back. Sam decides it doesn’t matter when it happened, only that it has. The cold, sharp ball of hate has warmed and smoothed allowing Sam to breathe without the rough edges catching on his lungs. 

“Well,” Sam pulls out another book and opens it, “you’re not going anywhere until Dean is back and Mark-less.” 

It’s impossible to not see the relief that rolls off of the angel. 

***

The removal of an angel’s grace is a horrible thing to have to watch. Sam feels sickened and oddly grieved as seeing the swirling, white light in the glass tube that Cas slips into his coat pocket. It reminds Sam of the souls that he released back to their owners. Humans without souls, angels without grace. It was just not meant to be this way.   
But Gadreel appears to be at peace with the whole situation. 

“He’ll sleep for a few hours at least,” Cas says quietly. “And when he wakes up, he will be very hungry.” 

Sam laughs as they step out of the infirmary. “Thanks for the warning.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright with him? I can take him with me.” 

“No, it’s fine.” And it’s the first truth Sam has spoken for a long time. “He wants to help with getting Dean back. I need the help. Besides, I can’t turn him out on the street with no human skills. It’s just not right.” 

Cas gives him an extremely sad look but quickly pushes it back under behind his eyes. “That’s...very compassionate of you.” 

“Cas, you know I wanted-” 

“I know.” 

Sam gives his friend a hug. “You go open Heaven.” 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can to help with Dean.” 

***

Gadreel adapts to being a human with so much ease that it makes Sam suspicious. But the former angel explains just how much time he had spent watching humans. Just as Sam had encountered angels who despised humans, Gadreel loved them with the same fervor. He mimics human behavior when he is at a loss. He sets an alarm to remind him to eat and he sleeps, the same as Sam, face down on a pile of books in the library. 

It takes them a total of two weeks after Heaven opens to locate Dean and make contact. Crowley was well aware of their plan to rob the King of Hell of his shiny new toy and tried to keep Dean moving. But Crowley doesn’t understand the strength of a family bond and the determination that springs from it. They find Dean in Manhattan and between Sam, Cas and Gadreel, they break through the Mark’s haze and finally are able to reason with the man behind it. 

They hold him down, cast a spell and do an incantation, which includes destroying the First Blade. They have to do another spell and incantation to remove the mark completely. They bring Dean back to bunker unconscious and he stays like that for days. 

It’s like going through the trials all over again for Sam. It leaves him weak, shaky and sick. Cas heals Dean in stages but it takes a while. There is nothing for Sam to do so he reads until words blend into nothing and he can’t even figure out what language the text is written. He forgets to eat. He sleeps only when he passes out. Cas is too busy trying to bring Dean back from the brink of death so when food appears next to him on the library table and he’s covered with a blanket during his unconscious phases, it can only be Gadreel who is doing it. 

It takes a week for Dean be able to sit up in bed on his own. Another week passes and he’s able to walk around the bunker. Three more days until he’s allowed to shoot a gun. Sam watches his brother’s recovery with a relief and joy he hasn’t felt in a very long time. But he notices that Gadreel becomes more and more invisible during this time. Cas is the one that tells him that Gadreel is making arraignments to leave and head out on his own. Sam doesn’t wait to confront him as soon as he knows. He knocks on the door of the bedroom in the forgotten hall and tries to reign in the disappointment at seeing two bags packed, sitting on the bed. 

“Hello, Sam.” 

“Cas says you’re leaving.” 

He has the decency to look ashamed. “Yes. I thought it best.” 

“Why?” 

“You have your brother back. He’s whole and well. Castiel has opened Heaven and my family is whole and well once more. It is time for me to leave.” 

Sam isn’t going to make him stay. The angel who gave up his grace, who took orders even when it went against his own moral code, deserves to find his happiness out in the world if that’s what he wants. So Sam shoves his disappointment down and realizes, with little difficulty, that he will miss his friend. But Dean appears behind him and interrupts the parting. 

“Glad you’re both here. Just got a call from Garth. Apparently there’s some haunted mansion out in Wyoming where the ghosts are getting a little too rough with the tourists. We need all hands on deck. Cas has already loaded up the salt in the car. Let’s roll.” 

Sam is relieved that today is not the day he will have to say to goodbye.


	2. Monster

Reach down your hand in your pocket   
Pull out some hope for me   
It's been a long day...

-Long Day by Matchbox 20

 

Gadreel makes a decent hunter. 

Sam has to admit, he wasn’t sure how the graceless angel was going to adapt to a life without wings and Sam ended up impressed with just how well he took to the life. It always helped having backup going into certain cases: nests of vampires, packs of werewolves, anytime he and Dean were outnumbered really. And Gadreel never faltered in his job during the entire year he had been hunting with them.  
   
Until today.  
   
Considering the case is keeping him up, Sam isn’t surprised to find the former angel sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of the night. He has a book in front of him but his eyes are unfocused and he is just staring off into nothingness. He only moves when Sam puts a beer down in front of him.  
   
“Thought you might be up.”  
   
Gadreel eyes the beer but doesn’t reach for it. “I’m finding it…difficult to sleep.”  
   
“It was a tough case today.” 

“I was not prepared for it to be...” 

“I know. These are the hardest cases. You never really get over it.” They had gone in thinking it was a vampire only to find it was human acting as if they were a vampire. It had been disturbing to say the least. Especially when they found out he stalking victims and draining them in his bathtub and storing their blood in glass mason jars in his refrigerator. 

“I hesitated. Dean-” 

“We all hesitate at one time or another. Dean understands that. We both do.” 

Gadreel closes the book and folds his hands on top of it. “I had been charged with protecting humanity. I had thought by being a hunter I could continue with that charge.” 

Sam nods in agreement. “And for the majority of the cases that’s exactly what we do. But sometimes, the monster is the human.” 

The words leave his mouth and instantly he wishes he could take them back. He can see Gadreel shrink into himself under the weight of the guilt and shame he had started to crawl out from these last few months. 

“Look,” Sam tries to undo the damage he inflicted. “There are far more good humans out there than the ones who let themselves become the monsters.” 

“If it hadn’t been for me-” 

“They still would have made the decision to become what they are. That’s the whole point of free will, isn’t it? You have the chance to make bad decisions.” 

Gadreel finally looks up at him with a complete lack of expression. Sam has come to recognize this expression as Gadreel’s way of wanting to express an emotion but not quite sure if it’s the appropriate reaction. So Sam lifts up his beer and smiles at the former angel. 

“And we’ve all made plenty of those around here.” 

Finally, Gadreel reaches for the beer with a small smile of his own. “Thank you, Sam.”


	3. Night-Terrors

Night-terrors

 

Angels don’t sleep but humans do. 

After giving up his grace, Gadreel learns that sleep is a necessity that is often not attainable. It seems that when he does fall asleep, memories of prison, of Thaddeus, come back to him in vivid detail. He wakes often and for long periods of time. He tries reading or watching the television that Sam was kind of enough to put in his room for him but nothing helps. 

He moves around the bunker like a zombie. If Dean notices, he doesn’t say anything. But Sam notices. Gadreel sees it in the slight downturn of his mouth, the furrow that appears between his eyes. He tries to sleep again that night and wakes once more with a strangled shout after a few hours of sleep. As he sits on the side of his bed and tries to quiet the pounding of his human heart, he thinks he sees the shadow of someone’s feet walking past his door. The next morning Sam is in the kitchen making coffee and hands Gadreel a box of tea. 

“It’s chamomile tea. It helps when you’re having troubling sleeping and beats using sleeping pills.” 

He thanks Sam and ends up drinking four cups of it before trying to sleep that night. The prison cell doesn’t appear in his dreams and neither does Thaddeus. Another dream comes to him though. His friend, Abner. A happy dream, finally. They walk together through and endless garden, peaceful and quiet. Abner tells him of his family, his daughter and his hopes and dreams for her. Gadreel speaks of how the Winchesters have given him a home and a purpose now. How he’s found his happiness and isn’t letting it go. 

And then he raises his hand, angel blade in his palm and slashes his friend’s neck. He watches in silent horror as Abner’s grace floods out of the wound and the vessel sputters and chokes on his own blood. He can’t believe what he’s done. He can’t believe he wasn’t able to stop it. 

“Gadreel!” 

Someone saw him do this. Someone knows that no matter how hard he tries, he will always be a killer. 

“Gadreel!” 

He needs to run, hide again, like the monster he is. A monster that needs to be caged for good. He was destined to be forever locked away and for the best. 

“Gadreel! Wake up!” 

And suddenly he does. His eyes open and he sees Sam looming over him. “Wha...” 

“You were having a nightmare,” Sam tells him retreating to a few paces back. “You were screaming.” 

“I’m sorry...I just...” 

“I know.” 

Gadreel knows of his Sam’s nightmares, how similar they are to his own. 

Sam pulls the desk chair next to the bed. “When was the last time you slept through the night?” 

He thinks back over the previous nights and finally comes to one where he slept peacefully. “It was two weeks ago. I had spent the day researching wendigos.” 

“Two weeks ago? You face planted into a two hundred year old book while sitting at the table. That’s not sleeping through the night. That’s passing out from exhaustion.” 

As soon as he says that, Sam stands up and leaves the room. Gadreel doesn’t understand why Sam is angry with him but he assumes the younger Winchester has plenty of reasons. Before he find something to occupy his mind though, Sam returns with his laptop. He turns on the television set and changes the channel so the screen is blank. He pushes a couple buttons on his computer and a video pops up on the television screen. 

“Move over,” Sam tells him and Gadreel does so. Sam climbs onto the bed, keeping his computer on his lap. “Alright, what do you want to watch? An eagle, a panda, cats, chickens, puppies?” 

“What are we going to watch them do?” 

Sam shrugs. “Whatever it is they’re doing right now. These are live camera feeds. Sometimes, when I’m having a difficult a night, I’ll put one of these on the tv and it calms me down.”   
“An eagle, then.” 

Sam clicks on the video feed and it shows up on the large television screen. A mother eagle with a nest of three chicks. 

“I used to do this in the Garden,” Gadreel finds himself saying. “Just watching the animals for hours.” 

“There is something peaceful about it.” 

“It’s because they are peaceful. They are doing exactly what our Father created them to do.” 

They sit companionable silence until Gadreel feels sleep starting to pull at the corner of his mind. He focuses on the bird, nudging her young around the nest to keep them close and warm. He must fall asleep at some point because he wakes up to find it already eight in the morning. The camera feed is still on the television, the eagle now feeding her young. Gadreel looks over to see Sam is still propped up on the bed and is sound asleep.


	4. Dreamcatcher

Sam had thought the live video feed to the animals solved the sleeping issues that Gadreel was having. 

He was wrong. 

Less than a week had passed and the screaming woke him up once more. And he was running out of ideas. The only thing he could do is grab his pillow and head three doors down to the former angel’s room. He knocked on the door but immediately opened it, not sure if Gadreel was still caught in the nightmare or if it had passed. 

When he opened the door, he could see Gadreel was sitting up in the disheveled bed, his knees pulled up with his forehead resting on top of them. The dim illumination from the television was the only light in the room. He had the baby panda cam on tonight, for whatever help it was now. 

“Hey.” 

Gadreel turned his head and faced away from Sam. “Hello, Sam.” 

He heard the tell tale roughness of tears in Gadreel’s voice and knew exactly what the other man was going through. God, did he know. The fear, panic and afterwards shame of being so mentally weak and allowing your own mind to turn against you. He tossed his pillow onto the bed and straightened the sheets and blankets. He climbed under the righted blankets before he could talk himself out of it. 

“Come on,” Sam nudged Gadreel. “Lay down.” 

Sam felt the bed shift under the weight and resettling of Gadreel. Sam flopped over on his stomach and buried his face into his pillow and saw Gadreel had curled up on the edge of the bed, his back facing Sam. The hunter thought the former angel had fallen asleep until he started to speak. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

Sam smiled into the crook of his elbow. “I know. But sometimes it helps when you don’t feel so alone.” 

Gadreel released a shaky breath that was just short of a sigh and soon after his breathing evened out as sleep reclaimed him. Sam just laid there, sleep eluding him for the next hour or so. He turned over on his back so he could watch the television in an effort to calm his mind. Eventually sleep started to pull on his eyelids and he felt the pads of Gadreel’s toes curl and flex alongside his calf. 

It should bother him he figured, being in bed with another man and finding comfort in it but at the moment, Sam just didn’t care. Gadreel had become an ally and then a friend. The lengths that Sam was willing to go to ensure the former angel’s comfort and peace was a bit more than what was normal for the average friendship. But then again, he was never really normal to being with. Maybe he would find that care, that uncomfortableness in the morning, but maybe he wouldn’t. 

***

There was something instinctual still inside of Gadreel that alerted him to the sun’s rising. Despite being underground in the bunker, he could almost feel the temperature change at the arrival of morning, the freshness a new day brings. He started to get up only to find his movements were restricted. Panic seized him until he remembered the events of last night. 

Sam. 

Relaxing back into the position he had woken up in, Gadreel takes time to properly assess the situation. He had been sleeping on his side and apparently Sam had taken the opportunity to curl himself around Gadreel. The hunter’s arm hung heavy over Gadreel’s waist which was what caused the difficulty of rising. Sam’s forehead was resting on Gadreel’s shoulder blade and he could feel each puff of air from Sam’s sleepy exhalations. 

Gadreel wondered if Sam was aware of the intimate position they found themselves in at the moment. Was it a conscious or unconscious display of protective affection? Did it matter? There was so much that he had yet to learn of being a human, of what is acceptable and what is not. For example, was it appropriate to lace his fingers with Sam’s, pull the hunter’s arm tighter around him as a reassurance that he had someone who cared? He had just run the tips of fingers over Sam’s wrist bone and down the back of his hand when the hand beneath his spasmed and Sam snorted. 

“That tickles!” Sam rolled over his back, still shaking his hand. “Dude, there’s better ways to wake a guy up.” 

Tickling and waking Sam up were not what Gadreel had been trying to do. He just wanted to feel that connection, that bond that had formed between them. A mumbled apology was all he could muster. He wondered if he should just get up, let Sam start his day but Sam seemed relaxed with his arm thrown carelessly over his face. So he too laid on his back and watched the hunter careful. 

A frown pulled Sam’s mouth down. “What?” 

“I...I don’t know.” 

“Yeah, me either.” Sam’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “But you did sleep, right?” 

“Yes.” 

Sam made a noncommittal noise but before Gadreel could ask him what that meant, Dean’s voice carried down the hall. 

“Sam? Sammy?” 

“Oh God.” Sam muttered. 

Gadreel pushed himself up on his elbows as Dean barged through door. 

“Get up, Sam’s-” Dean’s eyes widened and his mouth snapped shut. “Nevermind. Okay.” He backed out of the room and gave a large nod. “Okay.” 

“Uh. That...could have gone worse.” 

Gadreel wondered if he should ask in what ways it could have gone worse but decided he doesn’t want to break the contented feeling in the room, between them. He wanted to lay back down, bend himself around Sam and imitate the hold that Sam had on him. He wanted to memorize the line of his body, the curl of his back and how it would fit against his own. He wanted to slip his fingers between Sam’s and hold on for forever. 

But Sam kicked his feet out from under the blankets, stood up and the spell was broken. Gadreel watched with a sense of disappointment as Sam gathered up his pillow and started for the door. But he was only a few steps when he stopped and turned back around. 

“I may as well leave this in here.” 

Gadreel nodded. “Of course.” 

Sam put his pillow back on the bed and Gadreel breathed a sigh of relief.


End file.
